Automatic
by Yui Miyamoto
Summary: Asami remembers something that happened to him years ago with a certain little boy…


**Fandom: Viewfinder**  
 **Title: automatic.**  
 **Rating: pg**  
 **Pairing: Asami + Takaba**  
 **Description - Asami remembers something that happened to him years ago with a certain little boy…**

 **Disclaimer - Viewfinder isn't mine, but it belongs to the awesomely gorgeous Ayane Yamano-sensei.**

 **Automatic.  
By miyamoto yui**

"Whoa! That looks really cool!"  
Click, click, click.

The six-year-old boy held his black, plastic camera in his hands. Not too far from his home, a small apartment within the city, he went off on 'an exploration', as he had called it.  
And now, he stood in the sakura-paved park pointing his camera towards a bunch of high-rise buildings. Though this should not have been of any interest to a kindergartner, the light-haired little boy couldn't be told otherwise. He liked how the light shined through two tall buildings even though it looked as if they were blocking the sun.  
When he was rotating his body within his place, he had a curious expression on his face as he zoomed the lens as far as he could. For a little kid, he was pretty equipped because it was his most important gift that his grandparents had given to him. So, he valued it with his life.

His jaw dropped when he saw a teenage boy beating up a bunch of guys in broad daylight on one of the rooftops of those window-covered buildings glittering into his eyes. Without thinking, he ran towards the building out of curiosity.  
A few minutes later, his short legs took him to the entrance. As he huffed and puffed with his hands on his knees and his camera hanging on his neck, there was nothing.

People were just going in and out of the building this busy weekend as if nothing happened. Even the people walking on the sidewalk didn't seem to know or care.

What happened? Didn't anyone know?  
What happened to the kick-ass teenager?

Disappointed, he turned around and walked back towards the park to go home. But as he did so, a few blocks later, in between a narrow space, there was a place that even the light could not touch no matter how hard it tried. In that small area, he heard some breathing.  
He peered in and squeezed into the tight space while holding his camera.

"Put your camera down, brat. If you even try to take a picture, I won't hesitate to kill you," the handsome youth threatened while sitting uncomfortably against the concrete wall.  
His dark eyes critically regarded him with great caution, but the little boy couldn't help but come closer. He pushed his hands on the wall to support himself while inching himself towards the sharp-mouthed person.

The little boy was trembling inside, but the rush of seeing the teenage he was looking for was more than enough to make him walk into such a dangerous situation.

"Go away," the teenager hissed, but the little boy came over and opened his backpack.

"You should never talk to strangers," his parents always told him and it repeated inside of his racing heart, per heartbeat.  
He pushed the thought aside as he arrogantly tried to camouflage his anxiousness by taking out a little white towel his mom always told him to carry in case he got sweaty. Resolutely, he said, "I'm helping you, Onii-san."

But he smelled of blood. His legs and arms were all scratched up. His dark-blue jeans and white turtleneck were torn up in the oddest places.

The teenager wanted to protest even more, but he was shocked and even more intrigued by the fact that a small child was stronger than anyone he had ever known. The child had come up to him without thinking twice about the kind of situation he was putting himself in. Maybe it was because that's how it was when you were little: You were only taught about the things you couldn't do. Your mind was nice and blank, untainted by society's expectations or a judgmental eye on other people whenever they wanted something from you.

But, the child wanted nothing. Instead, he just wanted to aid him.

So, the teenager ended up smirking because he was so charmed by him.

The child continued on. He took out his water bottle and splashed some water onto the towel. While patting it on the tall boy's cuts and bruises and rubbing the small wounds gently, he started to say, "I saw you on the rooftop."

Alarmed, the stoic teenager calmly told him, "You should get away before you get in trouble with me."  
In his nearly eighteen years of life, the young man had made himself immune to human emotion. He was so stoic that he couldn't show his expressions on his face unless he felt absolutely certain that he could let his guard down. That was a rare occasion, especially the kind of life he led.

But with hesitation, this had been one of those scarce times. He had done just that with this particular child…

Patting the young man's arm, the little boy started to get comfortable with him. He stopped for a moment to blink innocently at the handsome youth. "Why, Onii-san?"

It was at that moment that both of their heads instantly turned towards the small opening of the small alleyway. The sirens of police cars were blaring in the air.

The teenager held onto his left arm. As he was about to stand up, his eyes were fixated on the entrance. He took a deep breath and answered, "Because I'm a bad person."

But the boy softly held onto his shoulder to keep him from standing up. "I don't think you are."

"What do you know, brat?" the teenager snapped, but the boy wasn't offended. Stubbornly, he brushed the hand away as they both stood up.

The little boy could see it, though. He could see the hurt and powerful eyes despite all the appearances. He could feel it.

"Pictures don't tell the truth sometimes," his father had told him. "That's why it's your job to find that truth, Akihito."

Keeping this in mind, the little boy placed the towel under the bleeding elbow that the teen was supporting with his right hand.

"Stop calling me 'brat'!" Now, putting his hands in fists, he shouted with such faith, "I don't know anything, but I know you aren't a bad person!"

"You're very interesting."  
The teenager patted his head. He never did something so affectionate in his entire life. To do that was suicide.

"Maybe that was applicable to everything…" he thought while regarding the boy's wide, yet hurt eyes.

With a serious expression, the little boy said, "Okay, I'm going to run to the front and you go there. Get away from here, Onii-san."  
He pointed in the opposite direction.

Blinking at him, the teen wanted to laugh. "Amusing. You're helping me? I was the one beating up those guys remember?"

Time was running out. Though they wanted to stay longer, it had ended suddenly.  
The sirens were blaring as the police were retracting their steps and gradually occupying some of the area around the twin dark-glassed buildings.

"They were trying to take you away," the perceptive little boy said. Then, he smiled at the young man while patting his elbow. "Take care of my towel!"  
"Hey!"

The boy was already running off with a mischievous sparkle in his lips and in his eyes.

Not wanting to have the child's efforts go to waste, the teenager ran as fast he could in the reverse direction. Along the way, he tried to imprint the little boy's face into his mind.

Those radiant eyes…  
That fighting spirit unparalleled to anything he'd ever seen…

He held his the towel a bit more securely under his elbow.

…someone who did not fear him or his position.

He ran for his life again while mumbling, "I will return this to you someday. Somehow, I will."

When he got to sidewalk, the little boy turned his head to make sure the young man was already gone. The police asked him if he had seen someone passing by with the description they gave to him.

The boy shook his head while blinking his eyes innocently. "No, Mr. Policeman."  
"Thanks."

When they left, he held his camera in between his hands as his eyes lingered at the endless alleyway before him.  
Before walking off, he whispered to himself and into the alleyway, "I don't think you're bad."

++++++++++

So years later, when a twenty-three-year-old photographer jumped off a building's ledge with a smile, the business man holding onto the railing before him in anger opened his eyes. They were opening slightly in realization at something he had never truly forgotten.

The face had faded from his memory, but those eyes had haunted his dreams ever since that day.

And now, he smirked at having found the one thing he couldn't buy.  
The one thing he didn't know how to conquer but wanted all to himself…

So, he let the photographer leave. For now.

"There's more than one way to have you…  
…and let's see if you still feel the truth of what you said to me years ago."

It repeated inside of his head: "Stop calling me 'brat'! I don't know anything, but I know you aren't a bad person!"  
It was something that he never told anyone or would admit if anyone ever knew. All these words were embedded into his cold heart and kept it barely alive.

When he turned around, he put his hand into his jacket pocket. He pulled out a small, faded white towel and patted it over his face.

/It's my only link to you now./

"Depending on how you answer me, that's when I'll decide to give this back to you."

With a satisfied face, he returned to his car. He, who had been unemotional all his life, was actually reacting to a mere blond boy who had crossed his path like a cat bringing about a bad omen with its sweet caresses.

After all these years, the inclination to smile at his single, happy memory was already, shall we say…

…automatic.

 **Owari.**  
 **-**  
 **Author's note:** The challenge in my head: Make something kawaii for Viewfinder. (I made too many sad fics at the moment.) ^_^ I couldn't get a chibi Takaba out of my head. *_*

I made this for you, Adri. Thank you for always giving me more than I ever need (especially with yaoi 'cause I'd never be able to find it by myself).

I hope you all had fun with me!

Love,  
Yui

Saturday, April 16, 2005  
3:59 AM


End file.
